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with tries to plead with you about the vices you are callous to, I get
my friend to give his client a pang concerning some villainy of his
own, and that shuts off his meddling and starts him off to hunt personal
consolation. My field of usefulness is about trimmed down to tramps,
budding authoresses, and that line of goods now; but don't you
worry--I'll harry you on theirs while they last! Just you put your trust
in me."
"I think I can. But if you had only been good enough to mention
these facts some thirty years ago, I should have turned my particular
attention to sin, and I think that by this time I should not only have
had you pretty permanently asleep on the entire list of human vices, but
reduced to the size of a homeopathic pill, at that. That is about the
style of conscience I am pining for. If I only had you shrunk you down
to a homeopathic pill, and could get my hands on you, would I put you in
a glass case for a keepsake? No, sir. I would give you to a yellow dog!
That is where you ought to be--you and all your tribe. You are not fit
to be in society, in my opinion. Now another question. Do you know a
good many consciences in this section?"
"Plenty of them."
"I would give anything to see some of them! Could you bring them here?
And would they be visible to me?"
"Certainly not."
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